


I will lay me down

by roadsoftrial



Series: Promnis week 2018 [5]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, M/M, original timeline, sad boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-28
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2019-03-10 09:39:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13499352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roadsoftrial/pseuds/roadsoftrial
Summary: Prompto tries to keep it together.Someone has to.





	I will lay me down

**Author's Note:**

> Written for day 7 of Promnis Week! Prompt: A moment when Ignis saw Prompto’s true inner strength come through  
> I gave me a sad while writing this.

**-a minute-**

‘Ignis!’

Prompto sees him, all the way across the room, crouched on the floor, head collapsed in his hands.

He’s not hurt, not in ways magic can help, not in ways Prompto can fix, right then and there.

He can hear the broken wails coming out of Ignis’ throat, he hears it all too clearly, painful, shattered, uninhibited. It’s wild and unrestrained, like something burst from inside, giving in to the pressure.

The sound is unlike anything Prompto has heard out of him before, and he phases out for a split second before it dawns on him that Ignis’ heart has just broken in a million pieces and he’s not at his side.

He runs, stumbles, trying to make sense of where he’s headed despite the thick tears filling up his eyes as he sees Noctis’ body in passing.

He can’t stop now, can’t focus on this just yet, he thinks of Ignis, concentrates all of his attention on him, on getting to him, one step at the time, one foot in front of the other, because nothing else is allowed to matter until he can get to Ignis.

He does reach him, sliding on the dusty floor as his legs give out in the last few feet. He collapses on top of Ignis, pulling him against his chest as Ignis completely falls apart against him, weeps, and Prompto whispers words of comfort into his ear, they don’t make any sense and half of them are interrupted by his own sobs, but he has to keep saying something, anything to get him to calm down.

This is what he has to do, this is all he can do to keep himself from falling apart as well.

**-an hour-**

Ignis’ tears run out before long. He tunes out, still breathing heavily, lying on his back, his head on Prompto’s lap, who’s been mindlessly combing back his hair with his fingers, because what else is there to do, really?

Gladio sits at their side, silent, stares at the throne where Noctis’ lifeless body sits, sword still piercing his chest. They’ve been sitting on the floor of the desecrated throne room this entire time, right in front of him, and it hurts to look at him, so much, but not as much as the colossal effort getting up to pull the sword out appears to be. They are not ready for things to be so real, so final, so quickly.

Prompto does it, in the end. He asks Gladio to watch over Ignis as he slowly makes his way to the throne. He presses a kiss on top of Ignis’ head before he goes, for strength. He needs all that he can get.

He bows before his friend, his king, one last time as tears quickly fill his eyes.

He doesn’t want to have to do it, but doesn’t want to cower out of it, either, not now. He could never forgive himself if he backed down now.

He secures a hand on Noctis’ stiff shoulder as he grabs the sword’s hilt and pulls. He takes it out in one swift motion, but when he lets go to store it into the Armiger, as he always does without giving it much thought, he sends the weapon flying across the room instead.

Because, well, there’s no more Armiger. Of course there isn’t.

It takes all of Prompto’s will not to collapse at that realisation, not to let go of Noctis’ body as it slouches into him. He sobs loudly, unashamedly as he shifts Noctis’ weight towards him so that he can hold him in his arms, just one last time. His best friend, his king.

Gladio meets him when he’s finally ready to move and helps him carefully wrap Noctis’ body in a black sheet Noctis had packed for that specific purpose, though no one had dared acknowledge it then. Gladio carries Noctis out of the Citadel, out of Insomnia one last time. Prompto slings Ignis’ arm over his shoulder and walks with him, supports all of his weight as they slowly make their way out.

They have no more reasons to be here.

 

**-three days-**

 

They bury Noctis near Cape Caem, by the water, three days after the Dawn. Because the world is still rubble and chaos, and bodies are hard to preserve, even if they deserve grandiose funerals and solemn eulogies.

Prompto spends the three days setting up a ceremony he thinks Noctis would have enjoyed. It’s the least he can do, and the best he can manage with so few resources, so little time, so little fire left inside of him.

Ignis spends those three days in a haze, drifting in and out of sleep, in and out of a mix of numbness, rage and despair. He loses track of time, is confused by the sunlight hitting his skin, wounded when he recalls why it’s there at all, cries himself back to sleep.

His dreams are vivid and scorching, but whenever he gasps himself awake, Prompto is sitting at his side, holding his hand or scratching lightly at his scalp while quietly talking on the phone, planning, taking care of the things Ignis would normally handle, but couldn’t bring himself to even think about.

Someone has to do it, so Prompto does.

The ceremony is small and beautiful and painful and liberating. No one can keep a straight face, nor a steady voice, and no one is trying to. They choke on thank you’s and goodbyes, holding hands, sobbing into each other’s shoulders, both laughing and crying when they recall the too short time they had the privilege of spending with Noctis.

Ignis doesn’t speak, and no one minds. For the first time in his life, words fail him, because he couldn’t even begin to explain what Noctis meant to him. He remains at Prompto’s side, not once letting go of his hand.

So Prompto talks for the two of them, bends but doesn’t break, and Ignis isn’t sure he can ever thank him enough for it.

A small part of Ignis wishes it could have been a grander event, wishes the celebration could have been as imposing and meaningful as Noctis’ sacrifice. But he’s mostly glad for who Prompto chose to call up. Friends, almost family, people who cared about Noctis like a brother, like a son. People who understand.

In due time, they can give Noctis a proper, public funeral, recite solemn eulogies, build a royal tomb worthy of him.

But for the time being, Noctis will rest in Cape Caem, where those who still need him can find him.

 

**-four days-**

They decide to stay in Cape Caem for the time being. Prompto sleeps through most of the day following the ceremony, and the one after that, and Ignis realizes it’s the first time in a very long time that Prompto’s allowed himself to indulge in anything at all.

And so Ignis stays at his side when he can, a repayment that doesn’t quite seem like enough, running his fingers through his hair, holding him when his sleep inevitably becomes agitated. He feels at peace for the first time in many days.

The rest of the time is spent in quiet contemplation, sitting in the sun with Gladio and Iris, and sometimes Cor, who can’t quite bring himself to leave, to carry on with his duties. None of them feel the need to fill their silence. They are still raw and hurt and cut up all over, but the sound of the waves crashing down is calming, and soon sunlight doesn’t feel like such a taunt anymore.

**-fourteen days-**

‘Hey Iggy?’ Prompto calls from outside. His voice is low and subdued, like they’ve all been these past few days.

‘Yes?’

‘Can you come here?’

Ignis travels the length of the dining room with a steady step, not bothering to put shoes on as he lets his feet take in the warmth from the sun-baked porch.

Prompto grabs both his hands before he has a chance to say anything, and so he says nothing.

‘I… please don’t think I’ve lost my mind?’

‘What’s going on, Prompto?’

‘I… did something. I hope you won’t be mad…’

Ignis doesn’t react, not quite sure what Prompto is about to show him. He lifts both of Ignis’ hands, and they follow along without resistance. He sets them on his cheeks, warm, probably red, lets them linger for a few seconds before pulling them up again, slowly, over his ears, until they take in the top of his head. It’s…

‘You cut your hair.’

Prompto’s grip tightens ever so slightly around his wrists, and Ignis can feel the faintest trembling coming from him. He slowly explores every inch of Prompto’s head with his fingers, basking in the feeling of the short, soft strands against them, in how eagerly Prompto leans into the touch, letting out shuddering breaths he’s been holding in far too long.

‘…Are you mad?’ asks the choked up voice.

Ignis lets go of Prompto’s head and pulls him into a hug that Prompto falls into with a desperation that breaks Ignis’ heart in too many ways.

‘Of course not, darling. Of course not…’

Prompto stays quiet for long minutes, softly sobbing against Ignis’ shoulder while Ignis whispers reassuring words in his ear. He’ll stay there as long as it takes for Prompto to feel better, to feel like talking again.

And he does, after a while.

‘I’m not sure,’ he answers when Ignis asks him why he did it, though he feels he understands a little, somehow. ‘It felt right, you know?’

It’s odd and unconventional and a little hard to grasp, it’s the Prompto way of doing things, of paying respects, of grieving, of healing. Ignis doesn’t understand, but he understands that this is Prompto, at his barest, at his most vulnerable, at his strongest. He loves him, he admires him so much, right then and there, fuzzy hair and stuffy nose, hand tangled into his, holding tightly, leaning onto Ignis because he knows he can, because they’re in this together.

‘I’m so glad I met you, Prompto,’ he says after a while, and Prompto responds with a wet, tired chuckle.

And before Prompto can protest, Ignis slowly tips his head backwards and kisses him gently.

They’re going to be ok.

**Author's Note:**

> That's all folks!  
> Thank you so much for reading! Kudos and comments wickedly appreciated!  
> Come cry with me on [tumblr](http://furimukuna-amuro.tumblr.com/) and [FFXV tumblr](https://thelegendarynoctgar.tumblr.com/)!


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